Percy Jackson Drabble Collection
by Franki09
Summary: Romance, fluff, angst and action. Anything you want it to be, all pairings! TAKING REQUESTS! A hopefully going to be large collection of songfics, drabbles, one-shots and/or ficlets. More information inside. Multiple genres, characters, and pairings. Chapter Ten: Safe and Sound, by Taylor Swift feat. the Civil Wars. Enjoy! R&R! Updated regularly.
1. Green Eyes

**A/N. Hey guys! It's been a while. Well, it hasn't actually, but it certainly feels like it has. So my inspiration has been running low recently. I've had thousands of ideas for both fanfictions and original stories, centered around my fictional characters June and Ray, but haven't been able to put any of them down. I've started almost all of them, then grown bored after like, a sentence. So to get out of this awful thing called writer's block, I have decided to take up the challenge of a collection of songfics/drabbles/one-shots or ficlets. Hopefully they'll get my creative juices flowing, but what I really need is some requests and prompts from you guys!**

**So here's the deal; I'm going to pair up each of the main PJO characters with a band or music artist, but in no way does that mean you have to stick to them. That's just me trying to give some ideas. You can give me a one-word prompt, a song, or an idea/request in a review or a PM, and I'll try to publish them as fast as I can... although I can't guarantee they'll be very fast. I'll take all requests for all shippings, although if it's one I don't support I can't guarantee I'll be able to portray it very well. No slash. Basically, all you need to know is that I'm mainly a shipper for canon, also like Tratie, and and am flat square in the middle when it comes to Reyna vs Piper, so I can write either.**

**Here are the characters and their respective artists:**

**Percy: Coldplay**

**Grover: The Beatles**

**Annabeth: Death Cab for Cutie**

**Nico: My Chemical Romance**

**Thalia: Greenday**

**Luke: Mumford and Sons**

**Jason: Snow Patrol**

**Leo: Paolo Nutini**

**Piper: Avril Lavigne**

**Reyna: James Blunt**

**Octavian: Nickelback**

**Hazel: Taylor Swift**

**Frank: Bon Iver**

**Now, these artists in most cases are NOT what I think fits the characters. They're what I think the character would listen to. However, in some cases, the artists do fit their character. For example, Green Eyes by Coldplay could not possibly fit Percy and Annabeth any more.**

**Which is why I'm going to write about it to start off. Any questions or suggestions, feel free to ask in a review or a PM. **

**And now, drumroll please, I present you the very first one-shot in a series of hopefully many to come!**

* * *

Green Eyes

Annabeth sighed, collapsing down onto her bed. Things just couldn't get any worse. Constuction of the Argo II had been delayed. Delayed! _Two months, _Leo had told her and Chiron. And now they had to send some poor demigods off on a quest to get the right engine, which would delay it another couple of weeks further.

And then the Stoll brothers had covered the Athena and Ares cabins in toilet roll, which was now drifting in the wind outside of her window. The Ares cabin had declared war against the Hermes kids, so now they had a bunch of half-bloods in medical which meant the Apollo kids were too busy for much else, and they had a whole load of cabin repairs to do. Which, Zeus forbid, would delay the Hephaestus cabin _even more. _

Then her blueprints and strategy diagrams had been cleaned away by the cleaning Harpies, being mistaken for trash, and so she had to do them all over again. It didn't help that her cabinmates were playing Coldplay as loud as possible, the sound blaring out of Malcom's speakers, making the floor vibrate and her ears pound. She could barely hear herself think!

It was time she needed a holiday. She had been so stressed, ever since - no. She wouldn't allow herself to think of that. Of _him._

Maybe she could visit Sally and Paul. That usually got her spirits up. After all, Sally was feeling the same way, worse, so they could relate.

For now, Annabeth just wanted to close her eyes and never open them. She wanted to hide away from the rest of the world, and close herself up in her own little bubble, away from all the pain.

Annabeth glanced at her clock. It was four in the afternoon. She still had a couple of hours until dinner. Maybe she could just, take a nap. She wasn't doing anymore work today. Her body was so exhausted, she didn't think she could take it.

With another sigh, she pulled open her drawers and pulled out a piece of clothing. An orange piece of clothing. Slowly, with thick, slow movements like she was underwater, she shrugged her current top off, leaving her in her vest, and shivered against the cold that now pricked at her skin. Not bothering to fold it, she shoved the old one back in her drawers and gently pushed it closed with her foot, pulling herself onto her bed. The mattress sank under her weight, and she nearly fell asleep then and there.

She wanted to put the t-shirt on, but she couldn't bring herself to. Instead, Annabeth held it up to her face, her eyes closed, inhaling deeply through her nose. A soft, quiet murmur escaped her lips. The smell of it, the feel of the soft fabric in her fingers, it warmed her right down to her toes. It was so _familiar. _The original owner hadn't worn it four months, but it still smelt so strongly of him Annabeth couldn't put it down. She sat up in her bed, folding her legs over and holding her bare feet in one hand, pressing the garment to her face with the other. It smelled so _good._

A deep breath left her lips as she held it closely to her chest. It was comforting. Like a little piece of home.

_This _is _your home, _she thought.

_No. This isn't home without him._

Slowly, she pulled the top over her shoulders, stretching out her legs again and falling back onto the bed. It was one or two sizes too big, but she didn't mind. It was comfier than her own top.

With the smell of the shirt, his smell, lingering in her nose, Annabeth closed her eyes and rested her head against her hand, the pillow beneath them soft and feathery. An uncertain smile danced upon her lips. The Coldplay track changed, to one of her favourites. It wasn't as loud now, it felt more distant. Now she listened to the lyrics closely, she realized why it was one of her favourites.

_Honey you are a rock_  
_Upon which I stand_  
_And I come here to talk_  
_I hope you understand_

_That green eyes_  
_Yeah the spotlight, shines upon you_  
_And how could anybody deny you_

_I came here with a load_  
_And it feels so much lighter_  
_Now I met you_  
_And honey you should know_  
_That I could never go on without you_  
_Green eyes_

_Honey you are the sea_  
_Upon which I float_  
_And I came here to talk_  
_I think you should know_

_That green eyes_  
_You're the one that I wanted to find_  
_And anyone who tried to deny you_  
_Must be out of their mind_

_Because I came here with a load_  
_And it feels so much lighter_  
_Since I met you_  
_And honey you should know_  
_That I could never go on without you_

_Green eyes_  
_Green eyes_  
_Ooh ooh ooh ooh_  
_Ooh ooh ooh ooh_  
_Ooh ooh ooh ooh_

_Honey you are the rock_  
_Upon which I stand_

Green eyes. The words bought a smile to her face, a proper one, as she remembers the green eyes that she had come to love and cherish.

In her half-concious state, the song floated lazily round her head, the words planting thoughts in her mind. Comforting thoughts, thoughts that chased away all the stress. She was stressed.

_Because he wasn't here._

She imagined what things would be like if he was. He'd wrap his arms around her waist, stroke her hair, murmur, _'It's okay, it's alright, I'm here,' _in her ear, and scare away all her fears. He'd support her.

Like a rock. Strong, firm, solid. Real. She wished he was. She wished she could feel him, in her arms, as real and as there as a rock but he wasn't. He was just a thought.

Going to the Roman camp would be hard, she realized as the song began to make more and more sense. _I came here to talk._

It would be business only. There would be no time for reunions. She'd have to be strong, have to act like she didn't care, because the camp was her responsibility in his absence. She just hoped he'd realize. If he even remembered.

With Coldplay in her head, and Percy's shirt on her torso, Annabeth fell asleep. It was the first blissful sleep in a long time.

Every night, she found herself asking Malcom to put on Coldplay more and more often, just so she could listen to the song, to the words that made so mush sense, in Green Eyes.

Another four months passed, and Annabeth slowly started to get better. It was subtle, unnoticeable, and she was still a wreck. But at least the song made things slightly better, and by this point she knew all the words.

So when the time came the Argo II cast it's dark shadow over New Rome, Annabeth was singing the lyrics quietly, under her breath, so softly it was a tuneless murmur. But they definitely helped.

She felt like she was carrying the world on her shoulders, the heaviest load imaginable. It weighed her down, and it was heavy, so, so heavy.

Then she saw him. It seemed like the clouds had parted, sending down a spotlight of sun onto his face, and when their eyes locked Annabeth felt the load on her shoulders get so much lighter, until she barely noticed it was there. Thoose green eyes. And all the while, she was singing the lyrics in her head.

_That green eyes  
Yeah the spotlight, shines upon you  
And how could anybody deny you_

_I came here with a load_  
_And it feels so much lighter_  
_Now I met you_  
_And honey you should know_  
_That I could never go on without you_  
_Green eyes_

Her pace quickened, her heart sped up, until she was running, panting, shoving through the crowd of Romans to reach him. Was he trying to reach her? She had to tell him, tell him she loved him, tell him that she couldn't go on without him, like the lyrics said. He had to know, he had to know that any longer without him and she would have broken. It was impossible for her to live without him by her side.

She needed to see those Green Eyes.

Then he was there, mere feet away from her, and they stared at each other. Neither knew what to make of the situation. She froze, doubt clouding her eyes. Then she fell into his arms, and she found herself swimming in those eyes, his salty scent filling her nostrils, for _real _this time instead of an old t-shirt, and all the while Coldplay was stuck in her head.

_Honey you are the sea  
Upon which I float  
And I came here to talk  
I think you should know  
_

She knew she was here for business reasons, she came here to talk, but she didn't care. All that mattered was him, him, here, as real as a rock and as calming as the sea, in her arms.

_That green eyes  
You're the one that I wanted to find  
And anyone who tried to deny you  
Must be out of their mind  
_

He was the reason she was here. Not some war. Annabeth had been searching for him, he was the one she wanted to find. Oh, how she'd missed him! Everthing about him. His voice, his scent, his sarcastic sense of humour, his comforting words, the feel of his skin, his Green Eyes. The stubborn attitude and the charisma, the way he could make anybody fear him or worship him with just his words. He could win against anyone with his words - she smiled to herself as she thought, anyone who tried to deny him must be out of their minds.

Suddenly, everything was alright. She was here, with him, and everything was better. The sun shone brighter, and the meloncholy she had brought with her felt so much lighter, as if it were feathers on her back rather than a sack of bricks.

Because she had her Seaweed Brain back. She had her Green Eyes.

_Green eyes  
Green eyes  
Ooh ooh ooh ooh  
Ooh ooh ooh ooh  
Ooh ooh ooh ooh_

_Honey you are the rock_  
_Upon which I stand_

* * *

**A/N. So what did you think? This is just a little bit longer than I originally planned. **

**Okay, it's way longer. They're not all going to be this long... hopefully. Just see this chapter as a special edition because it's the first. **

**So! Reviews would be lovely. Remember, you can request anything, it doesn't have to be a songifc, (which is what this was,) via reviews or PM. Whether it be a song, a prompt, or just an idea, anything would be great! Remember what I said earlier; I take all requests and non-slash pairings, so just give in your ideas now and that would be great. :)**

**Thank you!**

**~Franki**


	2. Innocent

**A/N. Whoo! My second chapter! This request was from Wonderstruck Pen, thanks for that, and she requested a songfic with Hazel of Taylor Swift's 'Innocent'. Hopefully I can do it justice.**

**Enjoy!**

**~Franki**

* * *

Innocent

Hazel took a deep breath, her eyes closed as she dug her nails into the palm of her hand, scrunching up her face and clenching her hands into fists. She felt something swell deep inside her, a feeling growing in the pit of her stomach, gnawing at her mind and prickling at her skin. She could sense him, she could feel him. He was near. Her brother. She didn't know how or why, but she just _knew _that it was him. Maybe it was some weird child of Pluto thing. Maybe it was just her instinct. But it was him and she knew it. And she missed him.

Aside from Frank, he was the only person who really understood her. She hadn't known him for long, but they could relate, and she loved having a younger brother. And the feeling she had now, the feeling that he was near and she was stuck on a flying boat, unable to do anything about it, made her sick to the stomach. It was a very maternal, big-sisterly feeling, and she felt so helpless that she couldn't do anything about it.

Her mind was filled with memories. She remembered sitting, with him, on the roof of Pluto's temple, talking together and staring out at the magnificent view of Camp Jupiter. She remembered looking into his eyes, his dark, frightening eyes, and just for a second, she had seen the crimes he had commited, all the dirty deeds he had done, hidden behind those eyes. Yet she knew that he was innocent, she just _knew _it, despite all the things he had done at age just eleven.

Hazel knew what the other campers thought of him. They thought him a monster, a curse. She knew he probably was. But he was still a person. Things were never easy for a child of Pluto, or in his case, Hades, and with the things he had been through, she wasn't surprised he acted with the ruthlessness of someone beyond his years. Yet despite this, he still had the childlike qualities of his own age – the jokes, the subtle sarcasm, the way he laughed and talked freely and smiled when he was with her, someone who understood him. It made her wonder whether he was like this with his old sister. Bianca. Part of the reason he was what he was.

She had talked with Percy about him often, after he had regained his memories. He talked of Nico like a little brother, and a little one at that. Hazel smiled at the thought of Nico's eyes lighting up as he stared bright featured at a Myth-o-Magic card, and chatted enthuisiastically to Percy about how awesome his older sister was, or collecting fireflies in a glass jar. No matter what people thought about him, no matter how far he strayed from the wrong path, he was still a boy. A young, innocent boy.

Hazel looked up, determination flashing in her eyes. If she found him, no, _when _she found him, she would be the best older sister she possibly could. She would do everything it took to get him back on track, to help him regain his grip on the tightrope. She knew how hard things were for him, how easy they had been before, and she wasn't going to let him turn into a monster. He was still innocent, and she was going to make sure he stayed that way.

Because underneath all the black and the threats and the dark eyes that spoke of wisdom beyond his years, Hazel knew he was still a child. Still an innocent.

* * *

**A/N. Daaang. This still came out longer than I meant it to, but I like this one. It was a great prompt, thank you Wonderstruck Pen! I like Hazel's character, and her relationship with Nico, and I enjoyed writing this.**

**Still, it's shorter than the last one, and hopefully I can get practise at condensing them!**

**R&R, and don't forget to give in any ideas or prompts. :)**

**~Franki**


	3. Driven

Driven

Luke didn't know why he did it. It still confused him, still left him angry and upset, still clouded his mind with unwelcome, unwanted thoughts. The doubt was the worst. Oh, the doubt. He would lie awake at night, staring at his bedroom ceiling soaked in sweat with the doubt in the form of voices screaming in his head that he shouldn't be here, that he was a traitor, that he deserved to die. They painted pictures, pictures of what life could have been like, of what he had caused.

The most common one was Annabeth. Her face, her pretty face etched with the deep betrayal and heartbreak and sorrow that _he _had caused, that _he _had put there. It made him feel sick.

Your fears and guilt always got to you in the dark, and at night on the Princess Andromeda was when he finally let his guard down. He writhed in his bed and threw the sheets off, curling into the most unholy positions and kicking and punching until he could barely breathe. His mind was playing tricks on him, cruel, cruel tricks until he felt like he was looking at everything through a sheet of fog.

The silent nights when he lay still, as quiet and motionless as a dead man, was when the thoughts really got to him. The confusion, the doubt, the haunting voices in his mind whispering taunts and answerless questions were as loud and real as the bed he was lying on, and no matter how much he begged they remained in his ears, buzzing around his skull and refusing to let go. They were very much a part of him, as was his own conscience, which he thought he had abandoned long.

He realized there was still a shred of it left, blowing like a ribbon in the wind through his mind, sending chills fluttering down his spine with the sound of the wind rustling through the dark, staring windows of a sad, empty house...

That's exactly what he was. Sad, empty. Pointless.

Then he would wake up and the noise would rise to a shouting, a screaming in his ears, the same thing that had driven him to give up everything he had only a few years ago, everything and everyone because of the burning hatred that grew in the pit of his stomach every day. It was Kronos, curling his talons around Luke's mind and pulling him towards him with the scythe around his neck, fuelling the loathing Luke felt towards the gods, towards his father. Kronos was the voices in his head, filling his skull, refusing to get out.

That was why he did it, Luke realized. He hated his dad. He hated everyone. He hated Annabeth, and Thalia, and Grover, and Percy, and he hated his father. He did – didn't he?

Then he realized, that the voice wasn't Kronos anymore. It had changed, morphed into a chorus of everyone who had loved him – Chiron, Thalia, Percy, his mother. Annabeth. It was they who asked the questions of doubt, asking him if this was what he really wanted, if he had felt as driven to do what he had done all the time.

It got to the point where he nearly broke, and almost considered going back, admitting that he was wrong, and being welcomed into Annabeth's arms, although he knew that he wouldn't be getting a warm welcome if he went back to Camp Half Blood.

Then the other voice, the scarier one, _Kronos, _reminded him what they had done to him, what his _father _had done to him, and he stayed put. He worked twice as hard, for his invisible master and for his troops, and slowly the voices in his head began to quiet down, until he thought they were gone completely one night when he sat up and covered his ears with his hands screaming, 'GET OUT!'

But, as he lay dying, Annabeth's tears splashing onto his cheeks, was when the voices actually, finally left him. Yet they weren't the ones he had wanted to originally. It was Kronos's influence, the voice that had been driving him from the start, finally left that day, and, for the first time in years, Luke experienced complete silence. He should have felt regret, now he didn't have some evil force throbbing in his head, but he didn't. He just felt – bliss. At peace. And even though he suddenly realized that he should of stayed with Camp Half Blood, and that he should never have betrayed them, he no longer felt the need to do anything.

All these years, he had been driven to do things he never should have done. But now, in the silence and lack of voices, he was finally able to rest.

* * *

**A/N. Nooooo! Why hands can't you type short stories?**

**Anyway, this wasn't a request, but I wanted to write something Luke-centric, so here you go! Enjoy.**

**R&R! :)**

**~Franki**


	4. Valentine's Day

Valentine's Day

"Sweetie? Yeah? You there?"

Nico groaned. _Not again. _

"No, I love you more!"

He slapped his forehead.

"No, I love _you _more!"

This was going to go on for a while...

"Are you serious? My love for you could whip your love's butt any day."

Nico's eye twitched.

"You looking forward to tonight?"

At this, Nico gagged.

"Don't worry, the chocolates are from Thorntons."

That was when Nico came to the realization that he hated Valentine's Day.

"Do you really think I'd get Cadburys for our Valentine's Day? I could get some champagne as well, if you wanted..."

_Champagne? _At this he had to give an eye roll. Why couldn't people have a simple Valentine's Day? He especially didn't expect all this expensive, romantic stuff from _Percy, _of all people.

"Okay, okay," Percy chuckled. "I'll see you tonight."

A pause.

"Alright, love you!"

A long, long pause.

"No, you hang up!"

Nico sighed. _Uh oh..._

"No, seriously, _you _hang up!"

Nico had had to literally hold onto his arm to stop it from grabbing the phone from Percy's ear and switching the _Hang up _button himself.

"Come on, wise girl, _you _hang up!"

That was it, Nico had to take action. He grabbed Percy's arm and pulled him round to face him, receiving a yelp from Percy's part, and demanded, "For Gods' sakes Percy! Just hang the hell up!"

Percy glared at him, removing Nico's hand from his arm and saying in a low voice, "Okay, love you. Bye," and ending the call, sliding the mobile into his pocket. "Nico, what the hell was that for? Couldn't you see I was enjoying a nice conversation with my girlfriend?"

Nico rolled his eyes, folding his arms with an exasperated sigh. "Thank the gods that's over! All that lovey-dovey talk. Just because it's Valentine's Day, doesn't mean you have to make everyone within a mile radius want to throw up."

Percy scoffed. "You're just jealous because it's Valentine's Day and you're going to spend it alone and girlfriend-less."

"Gee, thanks for rubbing it in."

Percy put a comforting hand on his shoulder, but Nico shrugged it off. "Don't worry about it Nico. You make it hard for yourself. You're sixteen now, and you have half the girls at camp falling at your feet. You're bound to get a girlfriend sooner or later."

"Yeah, but they're all Aphrodite girls!" Nico whined. "Why can't I get a girl who doesn't spend twenty-four hours a day slapping on makeup?"

Percy grinned. "You'll find someone eventually."

Nico looked away. "Yeah, when Artemis gets a-" he was about to say boyfriend, when he was cut off by someone shouting 'Percy!' and running over to join them next to the fountain of New Rome. They both turned to Frank jogging towards them, a bunch of flowers in his hand. Nico, being in a sour mood, couldn't resist the urge to say, "Are these for me? That's so nice of you Frank!"

Frank smiled, but didn't seem at all fazed as he held up the bouquet – lilac lilies and golden chrysanthemums – and asked Percy, "These are for Hazel. Do you think she'll like them?" a little nervously.

"Hazel's sure to love these, Frank! You've got a very lucky girl."

Frank looked relieved. "Thank the gods!" he said. "I was so worried she wouldn't like them."

Percy smiled. "Hazel's sure to love anything you get her, Frank. I wouldn't worry."

Nico scowled. The romantic mood had spread throughout New Rome like a disease, infecting everyone... except Nico. Everybody was, as Bambi so eloquently put it – twitterpated.

As Percy and Frank continued discussing their lovesick plans for Valentine's Day, Nico kicked the earth with his shoe, muttering lamely to himself with his hands stuffed in his pockets. He didn't want to hear another word from someone about how perfect their love-life was, while Nico was still single. He hated to admit that he had never even had a girlfriend before, which didn't make things any better. They were interrupted when they heard a "Percy! Nico!" from a voice which sounded like Travis, and some hurried footsteps pounding against the cobblestone ground towards them.

When he looked, he saw Travis, with Katie on his arm clutching a sunhat to her head and trying to keep her white sundress from blowing up in the wind, hurrying to catch up with them.

"I was hoping to find you Percy," Travis panted. "I was hoping you'd be able to tell Connor when he gets back from his date with Chantelle," he rolled his eyes when the said the name of one of Connor's many girlfriends, "That me and Katie are heading off on holiday."

Frank stuck his head in, curious. "Where are you going?"

A smirk crept onto Travis's face. "We're going to Greece for Valentine's day. I promised Katie that I would put the pranks on a hold for it, but," he held a hand up and gave Percy a wink as he added in a sly whisper, "I'm not guaranteeing anything."

Katie slapped him lightly, saying "Watch it Stoll."

Travis grinned. "I can't wait until you're a Mrs Stoll, because then you won't be able to call me that."

Katie rolled her eyes, tugging on his arm. "Thanks Percy, and Travis, we really have to go! We'll miss our flight!"

Percy punched Travis lightly on the arm as he was pulled away. "Have fun!" he called.

Travis waggled his eyebrows. "Oh, we will! _Trust _me."

"Happy Valentine's Day!" Katie shouted behind them, before they had turned the corner and disappeared.

Nico, completely left out of the conversation so far, grunted and looked away. "Don't let it get to you Nico," Frank said, catching on why Nico was upset. Percy joined in.

"Yeah, you're not the only one without a girlfriend. I mean, think of Jason, he's twenty now and he's single at the moment!"

Nico scoffed. "It's easy for you to say! You both have beautiful, strong, intelligent girlfriends, and me? I don't even have a lousy one."

Percy pulled a face. "Having no girlfriend is better than having a lousy one. I mean, you're free! You're a bachelor. You're not tied to the eternal devotion having a girlfriend comes with."

"What's wrong with eternal devotion?" Frank asked, confused. Percy looked at him.

"Hush Frank – the boy needs to know."

"Needs to know what?" Nico snorted.

Percy looked serious. "Having a girlfriend means there's loads of stuff you can't do. You can't check out other girls, can't spend too much time with your guy friends, and have to be there for them through thick and thin."

"That doesn't sound too bad," Nico said, wondering why Percy was talking like this when he obviously enjoyed being together with Annabeth.

"Trust me; it is. Every time they get emotional, or ill, or have a fight with their friends, you're the first person they go to, and you get the worst of it. The last time Annabeth had a migraine, I wasn't allowed to talk for three days and couldn't leave the house. She also assigned me as her personal slave, so I was forced sit there with her doing nothing in case she needed anything."

"You make it sound like torture," noted Nico.

Percy opened his mouth to continue, before Frank cut him off. "He's only trying to make you feel better," he smiled.

Percy glared at him, and spoke through the corner of his mouth. "No Frank, I'm telling him the truth!" he grumbled, and Nico rolled his eyes.

"Just be quiet Percy. You're spouting rubbish."

Percy folded his arms and huffed. They stood there, in an awkward silence for a few moments until yet another addition to the group was made. "Percy?" Jason asked, running towards them once he spotted them. Percy looked at him. "Percy, are you free? I need to talk to you."

"Sure," Percy grinned. "Spill."

Jason stared at his shuffling feet, awkward. "In- in private?" he asked.

"Are you sure it's not something you could say here? Or is it really, really, _really _private?" Percy tried.

Jason looked from Nico to Frank, as if pondering on whether they were worthy or not to hear the conversation. Finally deciding they were, Jason took a deep breath and said, "Okay. I need some advice."

Percy shrugged. "What kind of advice?"

Jason looked around the square, just to make sure it was clear. Then he leant forward and said in a low voice, "_Girl _advice."

Nico looked away with a frown, hearing the word 'girl' and realizing he was automatically excluded from the conversation.

Percy's mouth turned into an 'O' as he did the understanding head bob. "I see," he said, stroking an imaginary beard. "Be more specific."

"Well, I was hoping I'd be able to ask out Reyna. Tonight. But I have absolutely no idea how to do it; I tried asking Piper but she couldn't think of anything, and then Leo, but well – he's Leo, and so..." he trailed off.

Percy raised an eyebrow. "You asked _me?_"

"Well, you've had a girlfriend since I've known you, which was nearly five years ago, and you've still got her. If anyone knows about girls, it's you."

Nico was incredulous. "Are you serious? Are we talking about the same guy here?" he asked, but his question went unnoticed.

"Plus," Frank added helpfully, "your girlfriend is _Annabeth_."

Jason nodded eagerly, and Percy glared at Frank, but his features softened when he realized it was a harmless joke. In a way, he knew Frank was right.

"Alright," he said, crossing his arms. "So, Reyna, right?"

Jason nodded. _So much for Jason being single... _Nico thought. He was now the only single person in the group, not including Rachel and the Huntresses.

Nico wanted to warn Jason that getting relationship advice from Percy was not the greatest of ideas, but it turned out he didn't have to. Percy had the same idea. "I'm sorry Jason, but I don't think I can give you anything right now. I'm sure Reyna will be happy with a bottle of wine and some pebble throwing at her window. Besides, if you're only asking her out you don't want to waste your money on expensive things in case she says no, which," Percy caught himself, "Is very, _very _unlikely."

Nico sighed and put a hand on his hip. Why did everyone have Valentine's plans except him? Life was so unfair.

Jason nodded, his hands in his pockets. "I guess that could work..." he said, his voice uncertain. Then it seemed he decided it was a good idea, and he grinned at Percy. "Thanks Percy! I owe you one."

"Any time," Percy replied, before he clapped Jason on the back as he went off to prepare his winning-over-Reyna plans.

"Looks like you're on the ball, Percy," Frank chuckled. "All these guys asking favours from you, about _girls _nonetheless."

Percy beamed. "Yeah, it's surprising."

"Who would have known?" Nico glowered.

Percy seemed to notice Nico was still here, and looked at him like seeing him in a whole new light. "Nico, you really shouldn't worry about it," he persisted, unhappy at his friend's pessimism. "You're a good guy. In fact, I'm surprised you haven't got a girlfriend already!"

"I know, it's just," Nico wouldn't meet his gaze. "Every other guy I know has a girlfriend. You, Frank, Grover, Leo, Connor, Travis, _Jason, _Malcolm, Will, Bobby, Dakota, Chris-"

"Nico, you can stop now. You've made your point," Percy said.

"Besides," Frank cut in. "You're the youngest by quite a bit out of all those guys you said. Heck, Grover's thirty-six!

"Which is the equivalent of seventeen," Nico pointed out. "Only just older than me, and he's been with Juniper for years."

Percy sighed – this was going nowhere. "I don't know what else to say, Nico. Just don't dwell on it."

Nico knew he was right, and was about to open his mouth to reply, when something caught his eye.

Some_one_.

His jaw dropped, and Percy had to suppress his laughter as he followed Nico's gaze to the attractive young girl across the square, who smiled and gave Nico a little wave. She had strawberry blonde curls bouncing around her shoulders and a pair of round glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. Percy had to admit that she was pretty, and Nico seemed to agree with him as he was staring at the floor, his face beetroot-red. Percy smiled, seeing the way Nico shyly waved back, causing the girl to break out into giggles and blush.

Nico looked at Percy, as if for approval, and Percy nodded and punched him lightly on the shoulder. "Go get her, Nico," he encouraged.

Nico swallowed and made his way over to the girl. Looks like he wasn't going to be spending Valentine's Day alone after all.

* * *

**A/N. I give up. This was meant to be shorter than yesterday's one, and look what happened. I am physically unable to write reasonably-lengthed stories. Oh well.**

**By the way, I do not, in ANY WAY ship Nico with an OC. If I had to pair him up with a character, it would be Thalia, but I don't think people should be shipping him with **_**anybody **_**when he's only eleven, (of course, he's sixteen in this.) I just made her up on the spot to give Nico a nice ending. That doesn't mean she's going to pop up again.**

**So I had fun writing this, and I hope you had as much fun reading it. I got a few ideas from How I Met Your Mother and Big Bang Theory, but it didn't come out quite as I had expected, (namely LENGTH.) O_O**

**Please review! It would make my day, and I really, really, **_**really **_**need some requests. Pretty please? Thanks!**

**:)**

**~Franki**


	5. Boulevard of Broken Dreams

Boulevard of Broken Dreams

Thalia had made the choice to do it herself. No-one else, not her friends, or her family, but herself. She walked alone.

Something had happened that day. It wasn't that something had snapped inside her; it was that something had been healed. She had found a home, there with the huntresses. They were her family, and she had made it a promise to be bound to them for all eternity. Boys were of little significance to her, she realized, especially after coming back to find out that someone she had thought was a friend, a brother, _family _had betrayed them all, and so the Hunt had welcomed her with open arms.

So now, despite the organized, punctual habits of her new family, she realized that she was still alone. She would always be alone. She may belong with the huntresses, her _new_ family, but deep down, she knew she was by herself. She was born to be wild, uncontrollable, like lightning. She was made to be solo, designed to live in solitude, and although she loved travelling in a group, she would always be different.

Thalia knew that she had been walking a street by herself, in an empty ghost city, ever since she made the choice all those years ago, even though to her, it felt like yesterday. She herself had chosen to fight the monsters alone, and that day, she had confined herself to an eternal isolation from the rest of the world. She was a dead case, one that could never be healed.

She had woken up, next to the Pine Tree that day on Half-Blood Hill, and she was alive! But alone. Alive and alone. And in less than a day her dreams had been broken by someone she thought had once loved her. When they had told her, calmly, that Luke wasn't there because he didn't _want _to be there, because he had made the choice himself to betray everyone who had ever loved him, to walk alone, all her dreams and hopes had been crushed like a helpless bug under a boot. He had stabbed her in the back, and that wound would never be healed.

Despite being in a group, and fighting in a group, and obeying the orders of someone other than herself, Thalia was alone and always would be. They were there, in the flesh, but it felt like they were a dream, or a hallucination. Nothing was real anymore, nothing except the emptiness inside, the empty cage she had confined herself to when she gave up her life to save her loved ones, and fought by herself.

Luke had broken her dreams, and every day she walked along the barren streets filled with their ruins. And she walked alone.

Thalia smiled as she let go of the arrow she had notched. It was just the way she liked it.

* * *

**A/N. Another request! Yay! This one was Boulevard of Broken Dreams, (if you couldn't tell) by Green Day, requested by Wonderstruck Pen, who just about gives the best ideas ever. Thank you!**

**I had fun writing this. R&R! I hope you enjoy. :)**

**~Franki**


	6. Dog Shopping

"How about this one?" Percy called, causing Annabeth to turn and stand from her crouched position and make her way over to where her husband was stood, looking down into a large, glass container filled with yapping and small dogs crawling over each other. She waved curiously at the young girl sat in the centre, presumably a member of staff, as she stroked the puppies and petted them lovingly.

"Which one?" she asked, not managing to see the one Percy had originally gestured to among the ocean of moving puppies. Percy licked his thumb and pointed to beyond the glass screen again, (where a group of brave puppies were now scratching and kneading at the bottom, trying to reach the legs of the newcomers peering at them) but it was still too vague to see which one he meant.

"That one," he said, pressing the glass with his finger.

"Which one? The terrier or the beagle?" Annabeth asked, still not sure which one he meant.

Percy grinned. "The beagle."

Annabeth looked at it – it was sat next to the young girl, nuzzling it's nose into her leg and sidling up with other dogs. Her heart melted at the sight of it – it was very sweet, but she wasn't sure it was the right thing for them. The girl caught them looking at it and gestured to it, smiling. Percy glanced at Annabeth, who shrugged, and nodded enthusiastically at the girl. They watched as she stood up, bent down, and lifted the small beagle puppy into her arms, heading for a door at the back.

They waited a few seconds, until she appeared again through another door labelled NO ENTRY, the puppy still in her arms. Percy 'awwwed' when he saw it, and walked to greet her, stroking the dog in her arms. It yapped excitedly and started licking his hand. Annabeth smiled at the sight, before the smile faded and she looked around nervously. "Percy," she murmured, shaking his arm gently. He looked at her, a grin plastered on his face as he stroked and petted the beagle. "Yeah?"

"Percy, have you seen Luke? I've lost him," she said, worriedly. Percy chuckled as he took the beagle from the assistant's arm, gesturing in the other direction with his head.

"He's over there, playing with the guinea pigs," he said, turning to talk with the worker again to discuss the beagle. Annabeth scanned the room, trying to catch sight of her five-year old son among the crowds of customers, staff, animal pens and shelves and shelves of pet food, pet beds, pet toys, and anything else anyone might need for their animal. Eventually, her grey eyes caught him, sat cross-legged talking to what Annabeth guessed was a white German Shepherd puppy through a pane of glass. "Luke!" Annabeth called, making her way over to him. He looked up, bright eyed and grinning, saying, "Bye bye doggy," and running to meet his mother.

"Luke, come on. Daddy thinks he's found a dog," she said, bending down to haul him into her arms as she carried him over to where Percy was stood, cradling his dark-haired head close to her. Percy smiled when he saw them, and ruffled his son's hair, showing him the beagle. "Luke, meet Buster. Buster, Luke."

Luke glanced at Percy, who nodded eagerly, before he tentatively reached out a small hand to pet the dog. Buster studied it, growling lowly, and gave it a sniff. Eventually, it decided the hand was safe, and gave it a fond lick, much to the amusement of the five-year old, who giggled and pulled back. Annabeth smiled and put their son down gently, scratching the dog's ears as Luke hugged her leg. Percy looked at her, as the worker stood beside them awaiting an answer. "So?" he asked hopefully. "What do you think?"

Annabeth cocked her head to one side. "I don't know Percy..." she said, studying the beagle. "Are you sure it's the right thing for us?"

Luke tugged on her trouser leg. "Mommy, I found this-"

"Shush Luke, you can tell me about it later," she said softly, looking at Percy, awaiting his answer.

Percy looked down at the beagle with a sympathetic look. "Look at him, Annabeth! He's adorable! We have to get him!"

Annabeth patted her son's head, slowly craning her neck to see the dog she had been looking at earlier. "Well, I found a dog I think could work, but..." she trailed off. Percy shrugged, handing Buster the beagle back to the worker.

"Okay then, let's take a look," he said. Percy knelt down and hauled Luke into his arms like Annabeth had been doing earlier, exhaling heavily at the new weight in his arms. "Gods, Luke, you're getting heavy!" he grinned as his son swatted at his nose playfully.

Annabeth led them over to where she had been earlier, bending down to coo at the dog from earlier. Percy joined her on the floor, and pulled a face when he saw the dog.

Luke tapped him on the shoulder, "Daddy, I saw this-"

Percy glanced at Annabeth, pressing a finger to Luke's lips. "Not now, Luke." Luke narrowed his eyes at the finger, giving a sweet five-year old pout. Neither of them noticed.

"Wise girl, it's like, a bazillion years old," Percy said.

Annabeth ignored him, cooing and 'aww'ing at the dog through the glass, who whined and turned circles, before laying down and resting it's head on it's paws. By the looks of it, it was an old, a _very _old, collie. "And?" she asked, looking at her husband, who had a protective arm around his son. "It's lovely."

The young worker from before came and sat down next to them, Buster no longer in her arms. "This is Shelly," she said. "One of our oldest dogs."

Percy rolled his eyes at Annabeth, who glared at him. "And how old is it, exactly?" Percy asked the worker.

"Eight years old, I think. She was neglected by her owners when she was young, so we took her in. She's very loyal," she continued, looking fondly at Shelly.

"She's perfect!" Annabeth decided.

The worker smiled.

"Annabeth, if we're going to get a dog, why don't we get one that we can have in our family for more than two years? If we get Shelly, we're not going to have her for very long," Percy said.

Shelly looked at them sadly through warm, brown eyes, as if to agree with Percy.

"I still think we should get her," Annabeth said.

"I think we should get Buster. We still have a good eight years with him, at least."

Luke tapped Percy's shoulder. "Daddy, there was this cute-"

"Luke, can't you see your father and I are talking?" Annabeth dismissed him, intent on winning the dog argument.

"Come find me when you've made your decision," the assistant said, standing up and leaving.

"Annabeth, with Buster we have a lot of time for him to settle into our family properly. Luke will have him until he's at least fourteen!"

"She said that Shelly's really loyal. For the gods' sakes, Percy, she was abandoned when she was young! We don't want her to spend the rest of her life in a pet store, do we?"

"Mommy-"

"Luke, quiet-" Annabeth started, before she was cut off again.

"Mommy, I found a cute dog!"

Annabeth sighed, and stood up, taking her son's hand. Percy followed. They shared a glance. "Okay, Luke," Annabeth said gently. "Show us this dog."

Luke huffed indignantly and pulled his mother and father by Annabeth's hand to the dog he had found earlier. "It was really cute Mommy!" he was saying. "It was so fluffy!"

A smile spread across Annabeth's face, despite still being annoyed at Percy, who was pouting and muttering behind them. Luke towed his parents round the pet store, until reaching another dog enclosure that looked no different to the rest.

"It was here," Luke pointed to the animal pen.

Annabeth sat on one knee so she was his height and peered at the dogs, asking gently, "So which one was it?"

Luke looked disappointed that she hadn't been able to instantly tell, and pointed with a chubby finger in the general direction of the fluffy White German Shepherd dog she had seen him looking at earlier. "The white one?" she asked.

Luke nodded eagerly. Percy and Annabeth looked at each other doubtfully, as they watched a male worker try and get the dog to eat something. The puppy had it's head in it's paws, and was eyeing the bowl of food before it distastefully. It growled. The worker sighed, and disappeared through the door at the back, trying to keep all the puppies yapping his feet in the enclosure. Moments later, he emerged, a box of dog food in hand. Annabeth had to suppress her laughter as she watched the man shake the pack of dog biscuits over the bowl, even though the lid was closed. She wondered if he was doing it for a reason, or if he was just really stupid. He didn't seem to think he was doing anything wrong though, and laughed as the dog barked and happily ate the food, even though it hadn't changed at all.

Percy chuckled. "That dog has no brain."

"Mommy, Daddy, please can we get that one? Pretty, pretty, _pretty _please?"

"Maybe," Annabeth spoke softly, squeezing her son's hand. "We'll see."

She turned to face Percy and said in a low voice, so as to keep Luke from hearing their conversation, "I like that one more than Buster."

"I like it more than Shelly," he responded. "And Luke likes it."

They heard the girl worker from before come up behind them.

"Have you decided yet?"

Percy and Annabeth looked at each other, and made a silent agreement. They both nodded. "We think so," he said, turning to his son. "Luke, are you sure you want to get that one?"

Luke nodded, grinning.

"That one is one of our newer ones. He hasn't got a name yet," the worker gestured at the White German Shepherd puppy.

"Oh, oh, oh!" Percy grinned excitedly. "If we get him, can we call him Polo?"

Annabeth sighed. "And why, Seaweed Brain, would we call him Polo?"

Percy looked proud of himself. "Because, _Wise Girl, _he's white all over and has a hole where is brain should be!" he said promptly. Annabeth laughed out loud, suddenly finding his logic, well... amusingly logical.

"Okay, Percy," she agreed. "We'll call him Polo."

She felt a tug on her hand, and looked at Luke. "Mommy, are we getting him?"

"Yes, Luke, we are," she smiled.

"So have you decided on that one?" the worker asked.

Percy glanced at Annabeth one last time, and slid his hand into hers with a smile. "Yes," he said. "We'll get that one."

* * *

**A/N. Sorry for the late reply, but I went to my grandmother's house and couldn't write. But it's here now, so enjoy! This lovely idea was requested by ILive4Books, who asked for Percy, Annabeth, and their young son looking for a dog. Thank you!**

**Again, this one ended up a LOT longer than planned. I think this is going to become a theme for my author's notes, if it isn't one already.**

**Anyway, please review! It would make my day. And don't forget to give in any requests!**

**Thank you! :)**

**~Franki**


	7. Could Never Be Broken

"Drew?" she heard a voice call. Just a sound other than her own strangled sobs made her stomach crawl, let alone that _annoying, whiny _voice of some little brat who didn't deserve to even be her relation.

"Go away!" she choked back, crying more heavily at the sound of how utterly _pathetic _her voice sounded. No-one, _no-one, _would see her like this, at her weakest state. Especially not that good-for-nothing Lacy. There were three sharp raps at the door.

"Drew, please can I come in?" she tried again.

Drew rubbed her nose on her hand, fruitlessly wiping away the tears from eyes. "I said go away," she insisted, horrified at the screechiness of her voice.

"Please?"

"_No._"

She heard a sigh. "Fine. But if you need someone to talk to, I'm right here."

_I don't need to talk to anybody. I just want to be left alone. _

Drew wanted to say these words, but her throat wouldn't allow it. It was as if someone had poured sand down her gullet. The bathroom door shuddered and creaked, and there was a _thud _as she realized Lacy was still there, leaning against the doorframe on the opposite side. Drew felt the anger bubble up in the pit of her stomach, but she was too tired and emotional to do anything about. Why wouldn't Lacy just leave her alone?

"I can hear you breathing," she croaked, trying to summon the little dignity she had left and let it pour through in her voice. It didn't work. She probably couldn't even Charmspeak now. Not in this state.

There wasn't an answer. Drew wasn't expecting there to be one, but she didn't hear any noise that signified Lacy's leaving either.

"What don't you understand about, 'Leave me alone'?"

A pause.

"Some people want to use the bathroom, you know."

"I don't care," she snapped.

Another sigh. "You should do."

Drew decided to ignore what she had said and not let it get to her. It wasn't going to help her current mood. Lacy really wasn't helping when it came to making her feel better.

Should she let Lacy in? She certainly wasn't begging and being as annoying as Drew thought she would be. And as much as she hated to admit it, being Lacy, Drew knew she would only have nice things to say, no matter how much part of her insisted Lacy would do nothing but make things worse. And there wasn't anyone else who she could talk to... if Lacy counted as someone she could talk to, (which she most certainly did not.) She was too emotionally exhausted to do anything herself, and she wasn't going to live in the bathroom forever, and neither was she facing the entire cabin looking like this. What would they say about her eyeliner and makeup? What would _Dumpster Girl, _the new _Senior Councillor _say? If anyone was going to make things worse, it would be her.

Maybe she could escape through the window... No, definitely not. She would ruin her clothes or break a nail or _something_, and end up looking even more of a wreck than she already was. Besides, Aphrodite kids weren't well-known for their agility and the whole camp would hear her or see her and she'd be the laughing stock of Long Island. That definitely wasn't the way to go about things.

Drew sobbed again, and sighed heavily, hiccuping at the end. It seemed she only had one option left. Slowly, with heavy, slurred movements she pulled herself to her feet and pushed open the cubicle door, practically dragging herself to the bathroom door. It didn't have a lock, but no-one dared enter after they heard the cries and wails and angry muttering, and when one girl, Becca, entered unaware, she came running out crying seconds later and everyone in the Aphrodite cabin decided using the public toilets instead would be the safer option. It didn't make Drew feel any better.

She pushed open the door a crack, and felt Lacy's weight shift forward as she realized Drew was opening the door. Careful to leave it closed enough that no-one would see her and no-one would hear her except Lacy, she whispered, "Lacy?"

"Yeah?" Lacy whispered back, catching on that the situation was one to be quiet in.

Drew shuddered and took a shaky breath, mentally preparing herself with closed eyelids. "Lacy, if you w-want, you can..." she paused, finding the words. "You can come in."

"You sure?"

Drew found herself nodding, even though Lacy couldn't see. "Yeah."

She backed away, allowing space for Lacy to open the door fully and come in herself. When she did, and the door had closed behind her with a _click, _she gasped, eyes widening as she soaked up the pitiful sight before her. Drew stared at the floor, doubt flickering across her head.

"Gods, Drew, you look awful!" Lacy cried, hurrying towards her and pulling out a handkerchief from her jeans pocket. At her young age, she wasn't nearly Drew's height, but she pulled herself up onto her tippy-toes and started dabbing at Drew cheeks with the handkerchief, wiping away the tears and mascara-stains. "What happened?"

Drew didn't know what happened or why she did it, but she suddenly found herself pouring out her heart and soul to the girl before her she found annoying and wimpy. "D-dave broke up with me," she said, and after the initial shock settled down, she didn't stop the flow of words that tumbled out of her mouth, like a volcano of words erupting, and she couldn't stop it.

"He said that because I w-wasn't the s-senior councillor anymore, he didn't want to be with me, because- because I was weak and he didn't like me be- because I was weak and _she _was better than me, and tha- that everyone was b- better than me and that I should have stood my ground. And I don't know why I'm feeling this way, be- because I hate him, and I want him to die, and it's so hard because I-I've never f- felt this way be- before and I hate it. I _hate _it."

Lacy seemed at a loss of words, and Drew could barely believe the words she had said. Eventually, she spoke. "Oh, Drew, " she said softly, leading her over to the sink cabinets and jumping up to sit on the countertop. She patted Drew's shoulder comfortingly. "It's alright!"

Drew found herself able to roll her eyes. "No, it's not. How can you say that?"

Lacy huffed, looking tired with Drew already. Drew huffed back. "Well..." Lacy started, obviously trying to find some way to comfort Drew without seriously damaging her enormous pride, if it could possibly be damaged anymore. When she found the words, a large smile spread across her face and she said in a cheery voice, "All you have to think is that you're better than him!"

Drew looked up at her. "What?"

"You deserve better," Lacy continued, choosing her words carefully. Drew couldn't be sure whether she meant them or whether she was just being nice. Knowing Lacy, it would probably the latter. Hope was lit like a flame inside Drew's head. Lacy opened her mouth to continue, when Drew cut her off.

"You're right."

Lacy's grin grew even wider. "There we go! A little positive attitude never hurt anyone."

"I am better than him."

"That's the spirit! And you can just..." Lacy paused, trying to find the best way of putting it without it sounding offensive. "Find another one, I guess! Dave's what, your third boyfriend this month?"

"Fourth," Drew sniffed.

"There we go! And onto the fifth!"

Although Lacy's words were strong and happy, even Drew could detect the waver of uneasiness behind it. Lacy wasn't sure whether she truly believed what she was saying.

Drew smiled wickedly, wiping the last of her tears away. "Onto the fifth. And then the sixth, and the seventh, and then it'll be a new month and I can start again."

Lacy's smile visibly faltered. "What?"

"Boys are stupid," Drew said, straightening her back proudly. "They all deserve to get their hearts broken."

Lacy looked mortified. "Drew, that's not what I meant-"

"Oh, it's alright, _Lacy. _You really have made me feel better."

"Drew, no-"

"I'm going to carry on my mother's legacy and go back to how it was before, even if _Dumpster Girl _is the head Councillor now. Who cares about boys? It's _so _much more fun when they love you and adore you and you don't have to love them back. That's the way we Aphrodite kids have to live, right Lacy?"

"Drew, you have this all wrong! Mom would never want you to break more hearts! She's the goddess of _love! _She'd rather you went around mending them!"

"And why should I care?" Drew retaliated sharply. "He broke my heart! I didn't even think it could be broken. If Aphrodite is the goddess of love, she'd want it to keep moving, keep flowing, which is why we need to move on so quick. If you want to be a true daughter of Aphrodite you need to learn that."

"That's what _you _think Drew," Lacy sighed, appearing to have given up. "And I really thought-" she paused, hopping down from the counter and looking at Drew thoughtfully. "Never mind," she finished.

Drew smirked. "I don't even know why I'm talking to you. You're a waste of my time. Just leave, you little squirt. Don't you have chores to be getting on with?"

For a second, Drew felt guilt rise up inside her at the hurt look on Lacy's face, but she squashed it down immediately, choosing to ignore the fact Lacy looked as if she were about to cry, like she always did before.

"I'm going to talk to Piper," Lacy said, not meeting her gaze. "Because she doesn't treat me like a slave, and she's a better head councillor than you ever were!"

And with that, she ran out of the bathroom, holding her arm up to her face. Drew rolled her eyes, and lowered herself to the floor, turning to her appearance in the mirror. _Kids._

Sighing at her ruined makeup, she puckered up her lips and tried to make herself presentable again, wiping off her face and re-applying her perfectly done makeup.

_There, _she thought, blowing her now it's usual stunning reflection a kiss. Who cares if Lacy didn't like her? Who cares if everyone prefers Piper, the _new, better _Senior Councillor? Who cares if Dave broke up with her? He was just one in the long line of many, and many more to come, and she didn't know why she ever got so worked up about it in the first place.

Because Drew knew that she was better than all of them. She was the true daughter of Aphrodite, whether they believed it or not.

Her heart could not be broken, but she would continue to break many, many more.

Because she's Drew Tanaka, the Head Councillor of Aphrodite, and that was the way she lived.


	8. Little Lion Man

It was the eighteenth of August when Luke died.

The weather was clear, and sweet, and sunny, and absolutely wrong in so many ways for that day. It was also peaceful – quiet. Which, in Manhattan, did not make any sense whatsoever. If it weren't for the fact that it was the day of the Prophecy, the sixteenth birthday of a child of the Big Three, and the final battle for Olympus, it would have been all over the news that New York, the city that never sleeps, was sleeping – in the middle of the day.

But on the 600th floor of the Empire State Building, Mt. Olympus, the silence hung so thick you could cut it with a knife. It was the throne room of the Gods. Luke, Annabeth, Grover and Percy were the only ones there, and none of them said anything as he lay in Annabeth's arms, life slowly seeping from his battered body.

He was trembling. He was weeping. He was weeping for himself, for what he could have been. Annabeth was crying too, and Luke thought he saw Percy swallow and wipe his cheeks furiously.

_Weep for yourself my man,_

_You'll never be what is in your heart_

He felt so weak. He felt weaker than he had ever felt before. He could feel the last remaining shred of strength leak through his wounds, and knew that he didn't have long. The only thought that dared to cross his mind was the fact that _this was it. _This was the way he'd die. It wasn't anything like he'd pictured it. When he was young, and happy, and the world still made sense, Luke had always thought he'd die a hero. Not ashamed, and sad, and mournful for all the things he could have been, all the experiences he could have shared, had he not chosen this path of _murder_.

_Weep Little Lion Man,_

_You're not as brave as you were at the start_

How could he have been so blind? How could he have not seen that everything he had ever wanted, ever _needed, _was right there, in front of him? He had friends, a home, a family. Luke had thought, he thought that he knew that this was the right path for him, that he had made the right choice, but he was so weak he couldn't even recognize that his heart belonged with Camp Half Blood, with Annabeth and Thalia and Percy. It was only now the realization dawned on him that he had never belonged with Kronos – he had become a monster. A shell of what he once was, and it was only now that he realized he would never be what he truly wanted to be. He never was.

He felt so small. So scared. He didn't feel as brave and as powerful now. Maybe he never really was. Mere hallucinations, that's what it was. Luke had always been a coward, right from the start. He hadn't wanted power; he had wanted to be accepted, to belong, yet he had mistaken it for control and power. Certainly he didn't feel as brave now, as the Underworld rose to claim him. Hopefully Hades would have mercy.

_Rate yourself and rake yourself_

_And take all the courage you have left_

Anyone could do what they wanted now. Kill him, torture him, he didn't care. No matter how frightened he was, Luke knew that he deserved everything they wanted to throw at him. Minutes before his death, he would have to scrounge himself and prune himself to gather his remaining courage, to do something he should have done a long time ago. Everyone thought of him with disgust now – he was pathetic, pitiful. Looking back on himself, with the first clear eyes in too long, he could only do so with the same disgust and loathing.

_Wasted on fixing all the problems that you made in your own head_

It was too hard, too hard he realized as Annabeth's tears splashed onto his cheeks, mingling with his own as he cried for himself. Percy was crying freely now too. He was entirely devoid of all bravery and courage, a lost soul who needed to find where he belonged. It was so ironic to know that he had it, and gave it all up just for more. There was nothing wrong with his life before. He had created all his problems himself, laid them out for him. It was his fault only that he had to die this way, and no-one else was to blame.

Luke was so contortedly lost in his own madness, he painted everything out to be so much more worse than it actually ever was. All his reasons for leaving, for betraying the only people who ever treated him with respect, all of them were inside his own head. Make-believe, nonsense. Unjustified.

He had wasted his life trying to make it better. And it was never really any better in the first place. He just thought it was. He would take it all back as Annabeth cups his cheek, and he talks to them softly, to Percy, asking him for the knife.

_But it was not your fault but mine_

_And it was your heart on the line_

_I really fucked it up this time, _

_Didn't I, my dear?_

_Didn't I, my dear..._

Luke had caused the loss of so many lives. Lives of innocents, of people who never deserved to die, all because he had drawn out this unrealistic image for himself, just to satiate his only desire for satisfaction. He wanted so desperately to place the blame on someone, shove it onto some other poor soul, but he knew that he alone was the only one at fault here. He was the one who had placed so many lives on the line, merely to satisfy his own desires. He had put Annabeth's life on the line, hadn't he?

_I really messed up, didn't I, Annabeth?_

_Tremble for yourself my man, _

_You know that you have seen this all before_

_Tremble Little Lion Man_

_You'll never settle any of your score_

And when Annabeth softly told him that she loved him like a brother, Luke accepted the fact his time was almost up. Guilt still flooded his body, still managed to crawl into every corner of his exhausted mind. He felt so awful for having fallen into the trap he once swore he would never fall into. Luke had heard of heroes and past-demigods who betrayed everyone they loved, for and joined the fight against the gods. He remembered promising that no matter what it came to, he would always fight for what was right. But he broke his promise, and history was repeating itself again. The villain of the myths, the traitor and the bad guy, it was him. It had always been him.

Percy handed him the dagger, slowly, and he took it with a trembling hand. He trembled because he was scared. He would never be able to undo the wrongs he had done, never be able to settle his score, and after he did what he needed to do, it would only be a matter of accepting his fate, and whatever death decided was his trial. If it was the Fields of Punishment, then so be it. He'd lost his chance to set things right.

But he could at least do his best in his final moments.

_Weep for yourself my man,_

_You'll never be what is in your heart_

He was crying as he felt Kronos's hold over him slowly loosen.

He was a Little Lion Man. He always wanted to be bigger, better, something he wasn't.

He wanted to be King of the Jungle. He wanted to be fierce, and get revenge on everyone he thought had ever done him wrong.

But he was small and feeble and succumbed to his weakness from the start.

_Weep Little Lion Man_

_You're not as brave as you were at the start_

He had screwed up his life, and made many others suffer in the process. He had really messed up, selfishly risking others for his own sake.

He was a Little Lion Man.

But maybe he would make amends with this final act, he thought, as he plunged the dagger into his side.

_But it was not your fault but mine_

_And it was your heart on the line_

_I really fucked it up this time_

_Didn't, I my dear?_

_Didn't, I my dear..._

**A/N. So this is the first chapter in a while. I had fun doing this. It was a request from HollyLeaf6, and they have great taste in music! I love this song, and every other Mumford and Sons song. Hopefully I did it justice. If it wasn't what you wanted, PM me and I'll be happy to do it again! **

**Anyway, please review and send in your requests! Anything is great. Remember, it can be a prompt, or an idea, or a song you'd like me to base it off, and it doesn't have to be by the artists I recommended. Basically, anything at all you want! I don't mind!**

**Hope you enjoyed it **

**~Franki**


	9. Viva La Vida

In the long fall into Tartarus, Percy didn't feel like he thought he would.

Letting go of the ledge, clutching dearly onto Annabeth's clammy hand, he thought he'd feel brave, proud, hopeful, because he was with her, and had had the guts to let go.

But no. He didn't feel very brave.

At all.

As they were tossed further and further down into the depths of the earth, it was as if his strength couldn't catch up with him and had been left at the top. Every foot they fell, a little more of his power seemed to seep out, and he couldn't tell whether it was just his hopes depleting or the physical strain of falling so long, so deep. They were way, way below sea level, and it started to have an effect on Percy. And he hated it.

His hope and optimism seemed to diminish with it as well. Before – was it hours, days? He couldn't tell – when he knew there was no other option than letting go – he was never leaving Annabeth ever again – he had felt as if they could make it to the Doors of Death, felt as if they could beat Gaea. Now, his mind seemed infested with the guilt that he had lied to his friends and the fear that they would never make it to the Doors and Death and how he and Annabeth were going to die, and that Gaea would win and –

He simply couldn't afford to think like that.

_But he couldn't help it._

Then as he and Annabeth managed to pull themselves together on the fall, which was harder than it sounds, so they could at least be together in the endless darkness and cold, her warmth and presence made Percy's mind begin to wander back to when everything was okay. He used to be so powerful. He had defeated Kronos, the Titan lord, saved the world, gone on endless quests and voyages for _the good of others. _He practically had the fate of the planet at his fingertips. Hell, _oceans _would rise had he commanded them to.

Yet down here, he was as useless as a ragdoll. No control over anything, way out his element, weak and feeble and gaunt and pale, slowly freezing to death with no food in Hades knows how long.

At least he had Annabeth.

Percy felt so lost, out of control. Helpless to do anything, other than fall. His stomach did flip-flops and his head trembled with frustration at his inability to do anything. He could remember being the savior, the hero. The worst of monsters and giants would tremble at his name, _the Great Percy Jackson, _defeater of Titans and Savior of Gods. Everyone loved him, and although all the fame and praise made him uncomfortable and awkward, he had to admit there was no greater feeling than his friends and family, _Camp Half Blood, _cheering, chanting his name and practically holding feasts in his honor. Just the knowledge that he had made people proud.

Down here, there was no-one except Annabeth. Down here, there was nothing he could do about anything, and the negative energy and terror pulsating from the depths of the place even the lord of Death Himself daren't tread made him scared and under-confident and utterly weak. He was no match for anything down there, when, if, they hit the bottom. He may be a son of Poseidon, but he had his limits and they extended nowhere near Tartarus. There was nothing he could do about it – they had been too quick in decision making, not careful enough, and now their foundations were much too thin and shaky to even be close to prepared for what awaited them. They had been too brash and built their house on sand – now the storm would come and knock them over, and Gaea would have full control.

For the first time in his life, everything seemed utterly hopeless. Yeah, he had been in some pretty hopeless positions before, where it felt like everything was lost, but it always turned out okay; this was different. This time, there would be no happy ending.

They were hurtling towards _Tartarus, _for the gods' sake.

He pulled Annabeth closer to him. Just her body against his, in his arms, was enough to make him feel better, though he could feel her trembling like crazy. Neither of them could say anything. The wind would snatch their words up and pull them ruthlessly into the abyss before they could even make a sound. But she was his only real comfort, solid connection and reminder that the real world was still out there. Her heartbeat in perfect unison with his, a slow, steady rhythm, he knew that she was there with him and that was all that mattered anymore. There was nothing he could do about the rest of the world now – it was just Annabeth. She was his shield, his weapon, everything. In Tartarus, Annabeth was everything to him. When he was without her, he had never been more lost. She managed to keep him sane even down there.

It did seem an awfully cruel fate that this was the end they were doomed with. After all they had done for the good of the planet, the gods, selflessly devoting their what could have been normal lives to be some pawn of the gods, they both would meet a cruel and premature death, so young, ironically, on their mission to save the world. _Again._

Only this time they wouldn't make it out.

Wicked and wild winds had decided their path, chosen their directions. Life was an endless maze of twists and turns to them, but now it seemed they would finally reach their dead end.

And he couldn't even be himself when they did die. He had Annabeth, his tie to family and the Greeks, but why couldn't – if he had to die – have died at Camp Half Blood, or New York? He wasn't even allowed to feel at home?

No, he had to die on a quest with _Romans. _They had turned him into someone he wasn't. Even Annabeth, let alone the rest of the Greeks, had noticed some changes in him, his morals. He couldn't help it. His fighting style was more Roman, his teamwork was more Roman, his tactics were more Roman. Annabeth had never pointed it out, but he knew she knew he had changed and it frustrated and saddened him to no end.

And now all the Romans wanted to kill him, along with every other mythical creature who had ever had the misfortune to come across him. Even Reyna, who had once been his friend and co-worker, wanted his head on a silver plate, after the incident with Leo. Really, all along he had been a puppet, a pawn, of other people pulling at his strings to make him bend to their will. His life would have been completely normal without them.

Oh, but he felt even more of a puppet down here, falling into what could well be a bottomless pit. Not only could he not obey his own wills, he was helpless to do anything. He just hung there, limp and lifeless, like a puppet on a lonely string. And he was tired of it. Who would ever want a life like the one he had lead? Reward and fortune? Pah. Greek heroes never had happy endings. It just didn't seem worth it.

The intense, floaty feeling in his stomach tightened, and he was sure something had happened to the way they were falling. Were they nearing the bottom? It seemed the only option.

Annabeth tightened her grip around his waist, lifting one arm up the clutch feebly at his hair. It was as if she was trying to cling to the hope that as long as he was there, they would make it out alive. Percy had no problem with that – he just pulled her closer and tried to be comforting, even though neither of them knew what was to happen or when. At least the possibility of it being endless had decreased enormously.

He would never be sure, but he thought he registered a faint dampness on his shoulder. Annabeth must have been crying, even though with the speed they were going at would have carried her tears away the moment they left her eyes. The very idea made him want to cry as well. Everything was too much now. The landing was inevitable drawing nearer and, like a helpless puppet, there was nothing he could do about it.

He couldn't explain why, but something inside him was sure he wouldn't make it to Elysium. There was no reason why he shouldn't, but with the cruel fate they had he wouldn't be surprised. There would be no happy ending for them.

But then Annabeth looked up, a loud whistling growing in his ears, intensifying by the second, alerting them that they were nearing the bottom, and the look in her grey eyes made everything okay. It didn't matter that Gaea would win, because there was nothing they could do about it. As long as they were together, everything would be fine.

Percy remembered with a pang of sadness the days when he pictured he and Annabeth growing up together, living life together, having kids and getting married together – growing old together.

It was stupid of him to ever think it was a possibility.

_But that was when he ruled the world._


	10. Safe and Sound

_"Jason, shhhh, Jason, it was only a nightmare, it's okay - "_

_"Calm down, it's okay. I'm here - it was only a nightmare Jason."_

_"Oh, sweetie, you'll be fine. Don't worry. I'm here, I'll always be here, Jason!"_

_"Please be quiet Jason, you're making me scared!"_

_"Mommy can't be here Jason, I'll be your mommy! I'm your sister, I'm here!"_

Please be quiet Jason.

_He screamed and he screamed and he screamed. He wouldn't stop, no, not until the world had heard his cries. He screamed until Thalia's ears bled, until she was crying as well, pleading with him to stop. He screamed until he could scream no longer, his throat hoarse as if someone had rubbed sandpaper against it, his voice faint and wheezy and weak. Jason clutched onto Thalia's pyjama shirt roughly, burying his tiny face into her bony collarbone, dampening her shoulder. She rubbed his back soothingly, with the gentleness of a mother at the mere fragile age of eight. _

_"The monsters are gone now Jason," she murmured, her voice low. "You'll be alright."_

_At barely one and a half years old, Jason barely knew any words. It was too hard to teach him herself, and her mother did nothing. She didn't even wake when he started the screaming, she was plunged so deep into the murky depths of alcoholism. But the sound of Thalia's voice alone, slow and calm and level and oh so sweet, as soon as he had stopped crying long enough to hear it, it was enough to chase away the shadows. _

_"I'll never let you go, Jason," she said. "Never."_

_He just buried his face further into her shoulder, tiny little toddler hands grasping at the fabric of her top so hard his knuckles turned white. "But, I have school tomorrow, and I need sleep. I have to go now." She started to get up, started pushing him away, trying to make him let go, but he wasn't having any of it. He pounded his fists against her, against her neck, with unimaginable strength for a boy of his age, so she couldn't go. He screamed again, 'NO! NO! NO!' scratching at her neck, trying to keep her there, trying to hold on. She knew there'd be bruises there tomorrow._

_Thalia started to cry, started to rub her eyes, as she sat back down, no choice. Jason, unaware of what he had done, cried with her as she rocked him from side to side, all the while saying 'I love you Jason, I love you, I love you,' until the words were lost. She started a lullaby, a soft, lilting one about a better place, one she couldn't even remember how she knew it. She could have made it up on the spot._

Just close your eyes

The sun is going down

You'll be alright

No one can hurt you now

Come morning light

You and I'll be safe and sound

_They would, wouldn't they?_

_'You and I'll be _Safe and Sound, _won't we Jason?' she repeated, again and again and again._

_It comforted herself more than him._

_She couldn't go to school tomorrow. Not when her family was in this state. She had to stay with him, scaring away the shadows that so frequently stole the happiness from their dreams. She couldn't leave Jason here when he was going through what she had, was._

_"Don't leave me here alone."_

_Jason knew that much. It saddened her to no end that the phrases he had learned were necessary like that. He pulled back, looking at her pleadingly with wet, shiny blue eyes full of too much anger and pain for someone so inexperienced. Tears were streaming down his cheeks, so hollow and gaunt for someone so young. _

_"I won't. I'll never let you go."_

_Never, Jason. _Never.

* * *

Thalia wished she could of kept her promise to him that night.

_She had just gone to the car, just gone to get the picnic basket._

_Only gone for a minute._

_Things had finally started working out, the future finally looking bright._

_Their mother was recovering slowly, acting more like a mother, being there, doing stuff with them and at least making an effort, if only a small one._

_It all changed that day._

_Thalia had yelled, shouted, swung fists, stomped her foot, screamed, scratched and hissed, cried until her throat bled. Then she had run away, simple as that._

He was so _young._

_Everything was wrong. The world was messed up, their lives were just series of bad luck and mistakes and doomed futures. The weather just had to be perfect that day. Everything had to be perfect. She had never been happier, and within such an innocent, mediocre activity everything had to be washed away, in another sick aspect to her life._

She was only _nine._

_Thalia skipped along the grass, wet and spongy beneath her worn down sneakers, the air as clean and fresh as you could get in a city park. The picnic basket was heavy on her arm, filled with food and goodies and everything perfect in her life then. It filled her with possibilities, anticipation about the future in store, and hunger for what lay within._

_It was all crushed when she reached the blanket._

_Her mother, sat there, rocking herself with wide, frightened eyes, glazed over and staring into the distance as she hugged her knees to her chest and mumbled incoherently._

_"Mom."_

_No answer._

_Panic started to build up in her chest._

_No, no no no. No, this couldn't be happening, not now._

_"_Mom."

_Louder, sterner this time. More urgent._

_"He's gone, he's gone," Ms Grace murmured. It took a few moments for Thalia to make out what she was saying._

_"Where?" Thalia demanded, the picnic basket fallen to the ground. "Where's he gone?"_

_She was crying now, sobbing, shaking her mother. She was so distant, so unfazed, not looking at her daughter, not doing anything._

_"Tell me where he is!" Thalia screamed, racking her mother's shoulders. "Tell me where he is, tell me where he is..."_

_He was nowhere. He was everywhere and nowhere, and all at once the shadows were there, creeping up behind her, stealing her light. She wandered for what felt like years, but could only have been mere minutes, screaming his name into the wind. _

_She wanted to kill her mother. She yelled in her face, pulled on her ears, tried to punch and hit and scratch her, but no matter what, she couldn't bring herself to. Her mother just looked so pathetic, so lost compared to what she once was._

_'He's gone, he's gone...'_

_Thalia slapped her. On her mother's pale, thin face grew the red outline of her hand, and she stopped, but showed no other signs of noticing, or pain, or _anything. _With the maturity of someone beyond her years, Thalia bent down and looked her mother in the eye. All signs of crying gone, she glared, she searched her mother's blank gaze, and with a voice colder and sharper than lightning itself, she said,_

'This is the _last straw_.'

_Then she picked herself up, stuffed her backpack with food, and without a second glance, ran away into the streets, trying furiously to wipe away the tears that sprung. All the while, she was singing to herself,_

'Just close your eyes

The sun is going down

You'll be alright

No one can hurt you now

Come morning light

You and I'll be safe and sound'

_She'd be safe and sound, she told herself._

_I'll never let you go, Jason._

I'll never let you go.

* * *

"Don't look outside," says Jason, fiddling with the hilt of his gladius. His eyes are looking anywhere but at hers, trying so hard to avoid her gaze. She wants to ask why, but stops herself, realizing she'd rather not know. "Please."

_Everything's on fire, _she thinks to herself. Evertyhing she loves, burning to the ground.

"Why?" she asks, unable to help herself.

He raises a finger to her lips, squeezing her other hand. His lips are pursed in a straight line, forcing a smile for her sake. "Don't you dare, okay? Promise me?" His voice catches.

She nods, taking his actions as that he rathers she doesn't talk. When the things she has to say become too much, she talks anyway;

"The war needs you Jason," she whispers, taken aback at how weak her voice sounds.

"And the huntresses need their leader, but you're not fit enough to go back out there," he responds, and the cries and screams and explosions and sound of metal upon metal is enough to tell her that he's right. "I'm not leaving you."

"Can you hear that?" she murmurs, tears gathering at her lashes, her eyelids trembling from the growing fear in the pit of her stomach. "The war is raging on. The seven need you. Percy needs you."

Jason finds himself leaning closer in order to hear her weak, shaky voice. "I know," he says, giving her limp hand another squeeze. He has to fight back the tears. "I know."

"I'll be fine, honestly. The Apollo kids will be here soon, and then I'll be able to go back outside, hm?" she says. She's trying to convince herself more than him. Tears are falling freely down her face now. "I will be okay, right Jason?"

It breaks his heart how scratchy and hoarse her voice has become, how some stupid arrow shot from Gaea's stupid army can reduce his strong, brazen sister so alive and full of energy to _this. _"Yeah," he bites his lip, searching her black and blue face, trying to see the old Thalia beneath all the dirt and blood. His older sister who sang lullabies to him as a baby. "You'll be fine. I promise."

"And we're- we're gonna win this war, r-right?"

"Yeah, yeah we are," he says softly.

She smiles, such a sad, wistful smile.

"Okay." Her voice is barely scraping a whisper anymore.

...

...

"Jason?"

"Yeah?"

It takes ages for her to continue, as she struggles to find her voice.

"Will you sing to me?"

He leans back in surprise. Sing? He can't sing, not for his life. He- he could talk to her, he guesses. She probably won't mind.

"Okay," he tries, leaning forwards and brushing her hair from her face. "I-" he can't really start. He clears his throat.

"J-just close your eyes," he starts, taking a shaky breath, his voice catching. It's deep and low and so unlike her own, but she does as he says and the darkness is gone as she listens to him talk.

"Th- the sun," he pauses, "-i-is going down."

It's tuneless and whispered but she doesn't care. In her mind, it's only his voice, her brother, and there's no war, no fire outside.

"You- you'll be alright."

_You will, Thalia, _he tells himself, mind being whisked back to when he was a baby.

"No-one can hurt... y- you now."

She holds a back a sob, the serenest of smiles dancing upon her chapped, bloody lips.

"Come morning li-" he has to take a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Come morning li-ight," he continues, "And-"

"And?" she pleads, her blue eyes wide and open and wet.

"And-

and you and I'll be-

y-you and I'll be-"

He can't bring himself to finish.

She does for him. They were siblings, binded by blood. No matter what happened, she was never letting him out of her sight for the rest of her life, however short that may be, no matter he was older than her; she wasn't ever letting go.

_"You and I'll be Safe and Sound."_

* * *

**A/N. So you lot are all giving me the angsiest prompts ever! I need some happy stuff! I'm really sorry this took so long, the next one will be up soon hopefully. I hope this was okay, I do love that song! The request was from an anon called Thukefan101, so I hope you enjoyed this, and next up is your Titanium for Luke and Thalia, or Luke and Annabeth, I'm not sure which yet.**

**Again, I'm really sorry this took so long, and I do hope it's good enough. **

**Disclaimer: Song belongs to Taylor Swift feat. Civil Wars and the characters belong to Rick Riordan, not me.**

**Reviews are appreciated! Give in your requests and I might get them done eventually! **

_**Yay.**_

**~Franki**


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